


The Comforting Scent of Books

by Suspicious_Popsicle



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 18:02:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3391019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suspicious_Popsicle/pseuds/Suspicious_Popsicle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a day for stories and the quiet peace of Estellise's companionship. It had been a long time since they had been able to steal away to the library to read and trade opinions and recommendations. Flynn was determined to make the most of it. (Friendship fic with light Fluri)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Comforting Scent of Books

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by an anonymous Tales confession on tumblr about Estelle and Flynn being reading buddies.
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.

The imperial library housed in the palace in Zaphias was as much showcase as repository for the treasures it held. Built to be as expansive and airy as the rest of the palace, it was walled with shelves of books towering two stories high, ringed with a balcony, and crowned with a third story of tome-lined walls. Thick, beautifully-woven rugs covered most of the marble floor and muffled footsteps. Skylights were nets holding sections of the heavens, and an entire curved wall was given up to glass-paned windows that drank in the light and let it fall along the aisles that stretched out like the sun's rays. Across from the windows was an enormous hearth, unlit in summer, but ringed year round with armchairs and end tables for those who came to the library to discuss and debate as well as read. Shelves and furniture alike were all carved of the same dark, gleaming wood. Engraved brass plates studded shelves and the ends of bookcases. Polished to mirror brightness, these were the stars by which visitors navigated the library and its contents.

Arched doorways led off into small wings, each with its own smaller hearth and gathering place, and hidden alcoves, besides. Each wing connected to the next, ringing the center chamber with a honeycomb of smaller collections of knowledge. Geography led into history led into myth led into poetry led into philosophy so that the entire world could be discovered by tracing a thought as it branched out through the vastness of the library.

Shadowed niches were brightened by candles in glass globes tinted palest amber. Oil lamps sat at every table along with trays of paper, quill pens, and pots of ink. The library smelled of beeswax and leather, earthy incense and the smoke of candles, and, most calming and wondrous of all: books.

In one particular niche, tucked away in the depths of the library, Estellise sat at a small table, reading over a few pages of handwritten verse. Nearby, Flynn slotted a book back into place and began searching for another. His index finger traced lightly over spines, pausing at unfamiliar titles and those that had become favorites. He had just settled on one when Estellise spoke up.

“Have you read deVerney's _Letters to an Elder_?”

“I don't believe so, but if you're recommending it, I'll correct that. What's it about?” He caught her smile as he switched shelves, searching now with a specific title in mind.

“It's a collection of letters and poetry as written by a traveler to the elder of his village. The elder is mistrustful of the outside world, so the traveler tells him wondrous tales and describes the graciousness of the people he meets. It was intended as an allegory. At the time, the empire was nearing war with the guilds.”

He located the book, a slender volume bound in blue leather, and pulled it out. The gilt of the title had faded, but he ran his fingers over the cover and flipped briefly through the pages. The book scent momentarily sharpened, and he took a seat in the armchair facing Estellise's place at the table.

“There's also a love story,” she said, knowing such things were his secret pleasure. “The traveler is in love with a village girl born to the elder's family and, therefore, above his station. He writes to her as well. One of deVerney's messages is that there are rich rewards for being tolerant of others' differences.”

“That's something I wish more people would keep in mind.”

There had been tremors lately in the peace between the empire and the guilds. Minor disagreements that had been discussed and resolved, but it never failed to surprise him how some people simply couldn't accept the prosperity that peace brought them. With an effort, he pushed political concerns from his mind. This was a day for stories and the quiet peace of Estellise's companionship. It had been a long time since they had been able to steal away to the library to read and trade opinions and recommendations. He was determined to make the most of it.

Just as he was settling in to read, he realized what all of Estellise's talk implied. He set the book down on his lap and gave her his full attention.

“You've finished reading them?”

Delight glowed on her face and pinked her cheeks. “Flynn, they were lovely. You've gotten even better since the last ones you brought me to read. The imagery you chose for the second one in particular was stunning.”

“Thank you.”

He felt his own cheeks heating up at her praise. He was no great poet and he knew so, but he still enjoyed trying his hand at verse every now and again. As he watched, she picked up the pages of his poems and held them over her heart with a sigh.

“I wish someone would write me poetry like this.”

Amusement won out over embarrassment. “Oh? And what would you say to them in return?”

Her eyes grew wide, and she laughed softly at herself as she lowered the papers back to the tabletop. Smiling wistfully, she touched the red gem at her throat. Flynn could remember having last seen the choker worn by a certain mage that had accompanied the princess on her journey.

“I suppose that was a little selfish of me.”

“No more so than I am, at times.”

They shared a smile of understanding before Estellise turned her attention to the book set aside by her elbow.

“What is this one again?” Rather than waiting for his answer, she opened the book and gasped at the color and detail of the illustrations inside.

“It's an apothecary's guide from Nordopolica. They make use of a great many plants and odd sea creatures that aren't indigenous here, but it caught my eye during my travels. I thought you would find it interesting.”

“It's beautiful!” She pointed to a small, spiky creature half-framed by seaweed, and Flynn got up to take a closer look. The entire illustration was so carefully painted that it appeared as if it would be wet to the touch. “I've seen these! There were some along the beach when we docked. Karol didn't believe they were alive. He thought they were prickly rocks until Yuri dropped one down the back of his shirt.”

She covered her mouth, but couldn't help laughing at the memory. Flynn could picture it, and the thought made him smile. Yuri had used to pull the same trick when they were children, only back then he'd made do with caterpillars and leggy insects, rather than mysterious sea creatures. It was amazing how little he had changed. Amazing and reassuring.

As he started to return to his chair, Flynn's gaze fell upon the poetry he'd written. His smile softened as he picked up the pages and folded them carefully before tucking them safely into an inner pocket of his tunic. He patted them as he sat down. They rested over his heart.

A hush wrapped them once more, softened by nothing louder than the flutter of turning pages. He was a few lines into the first letter in the book when Estellise spoke up suddenly.

“I missed this.” Immediately, he knew what she meant, but she continued on. “The world is far more incredible than anything that can be captured in words, but even when I was traveling, I still missed this. It's nothing like seeing the world for myself, but to read about it through others' eyes, to get a sense of another person's heart through the words he's written....” Trailing off, she looked up to meet Flynn's gaze.

“I know exactly what you mean.”

The world was present in the library, but it was contained, bound by perspective and the past and kept from dictating the pace of their lives or stealing their peace. This was a place apart from the world where one could peer into other lives and distant lands without being swept up in events. Estellise wasn't the only one who had missed these calm moments of exploration and sharing.

There was barely enough time for silence to well up around them before they were discovered. The faint jingling of chain announced his presence, and Flynn looked up just as Estellise exclaimed: “Repede!”

Before Flynn could rise, the dog was in front of him. Planting his paws to either side of Flynn's knees, Repede thrust his muzzle up to lick his face. His tail lashed happily back and forth and, in his excitement, he even broke off his greeting long enough to give Estellise's fingers a brief lick as she came over to pet him.

As happy as Flynn was to see Repede, his presence meant that his partner wouldn't be far behind. Sure enough, by the time Repede had calmed enough to sit down on the floor, Yuri stepped into view around a bookshelf.

“Yuri!”

Estellise swept him into a hug so suddenly that he was forced back a step and collided with the shelf. Her excitement was understandable. It had been quite some time since they had seen each other. Even as he teased her about the rough greeting, Yuri wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her tight. He met Flynn's eyes over the pink of her hair, and the look held all the warmth and promise of their boyhood summer nights.

With a smile and a sigh, Flynn closed his book and laid it to rest on his thigh.

“There goes our quiet afternoon.”

Yuri snorted. Amusement tugged at his lips as Estellise released him. “What are you doing cooped up in here? It's a perfect day outside.”

“Flynn and I were reading. Would you like to join us?” She clapped her hands in sudden delight. “I know one you'll like! Have you read—”

“Sorry, Estelle. I'm not much of a bookworm.”

That was an understatement. Yuri had never found pleasure in reading. He'd learned his lessons well enough to be passable at it, but he didn't generally bother with books unless he needed the information they contained.

“Hey, how about we pack up a lunch and leave the city for a picnic?”

Estellise was searching a shelf and answered over her shoulder. “I'm sorry, Yuri. I ate earlier.”

Undaunted, he turned to Flynn. “What about you? You still owe me a rematch after last time.”

There was as much hope as challenge in his grin, but Flynn resisted the temptation. Shaking his head, he held up his book and tried once again to get started reading it.

“Are you sure you don't want to join us?” Having found the book she'd been looking for, Estellise held it out to him. “I really think you would enjoy _The Voyage of the Korelei_. It's an epic poem about the adventures of a brave sea captain.”

“You lost me at 'epic poem.'”

She pulled a face at him, but her pout had no effect. Flynn offered her a crooked smile and a shrug. Yuri was who he was. He didn't know what he was missing and, in this case, he wasn't interested in finding out. Returning a wry smile of her own, she let the matter drop. However, rather than putting away _The Voyage of the Korelei_ , she laid it on the table within his reach as she sat down. Flynn didn't expect it to tempt him. He expected Yuri to leave. It startled him, then, when Yuri dropped to the floor next to his chair. Pretending to read, he watched for a minute as Yuri ruffled Repede's fur and scratched between his ears. Glancing up, he saw that Estellise was watching, too. Yuri clearly wasn't interested in either reading or leaving, and neither of them wanted to exclude him. There was only one solution that Flynn could come up with.

“You've recommended that story to me, as well. Would you mind reading some of it aloud to us?”

It was true that Estellise had suggested he read the book, but it was also true that he'd done so that same day and spent quite some time discussing it with her when next they'd had a chance to talk. She caught on immediately to his reasoning and smiled as she pulled the book across the table. It had been a good read, and would be enjoyable a second time.

If Yuri realized that Flynn's suggestion had been made strictly for his benefit, he didn't let on. At the very least, it would be more interesting for him than simply sitting around as they read silently to themselves would have been. He settled in, leaning against Flynn's leg and letting Repede make a pillow of his lap. Once they were all still and comfortable, Estellise began to read.

She had a born storyteller's way with words and inflection. When he closed his eyes, Flynn could practically feel the motion of the waves in the rhythm of the opening lines. He recalled the sounds of sea birds and the tickle of an endless breeze. He could almost smell the salt.

Time passed outside the story she recounted. The seconds and minutes of the real world lost their hold and flew past unheeded. Flynn sank into the story with the same comfort of a long-desired homecoming. So caught up was he that he didn't notice at first when Yuri drifted off, and it took him a good while to separate the faint sound of snoring from his memories of creaking timbers and wind in sails.

Reaching down, he tenderly stroked Yuri's hair. Estellise had stopped reading, and sat watching him. The warmth of that bright afternoon in their quiet corner of the library had wrapped him up beyond the reach of any self-consciousness he might otherwise have felt about the gesture being seen.

“I hadn't expected poetry would actually put him to sleep. Does your muse know how he inspires you?”

Flynn took no offense at the gentle teasing and smiled both for her and for Yuri as he stroked his fingers gently, gently over dark hair. He had never shown Yuri the poems, never sent him any expressions of love, and he never intended to. The poems were for himself, to fix Yuri in his heart when they were so often separated. As for inspiring him....

He recalled all the times Yuri had shouted him down when his duty had parted ways with what was just. He remembered the way Yuri's belief in him had shone hard and brilliant as a diamond whenever he'd had trouble believing in himself. He thought back to their fight at Aurnion, how every time he had met Yuri outside of Zaphias it had been harder and harder to win against him until Yuri had finally stood victorious despite Flynn's best efforts. All of those memories supported him, inspired him to push himself and be a better knight—a better man—than he had been the day before.

Patting the pocket that held the folded papers on which he'd tried to capture the tiniest aspect of what Yuri was to him, Flynn's smile grew and softened. His hand stilled on Yuri's head as he chose his answer to Estellise's question.

“Not in so many words.”


End file.
